


Not just a Trickster

by Valdyr



Series: Not Just... [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e08 Changing Channels, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-17 07:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12360771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valdyr/pseuds/Valdyr
Summary: For the first time since the devil has begun to walk the earth, the Trickster returns. But now Sam is no longer high on demon blood... oh, and Dean is there, too.





	1. Archetype Trickster

**Author's Note:**

> I've noticed that the last part got darker than intended, but to my defense: By canon this is Gabriel's emotional low-point and I had to lead up to it. I suggest you don't assume the ending from there, though. I haven't even decided on a version yet myself.

When realization hit, his first thought was to the trickster.

When they finally calmed down from that row of excitements and it all sunk in, that the devil was free, that Dean was Michael's true vessel, that the angels were willing to torture them to achieve their goals, that Bobby would never walk again, that Dean was without hope and blamed him, that he had effectively started the apocalypse, all those things, his first thought was that all he wanted to do was to crawl into his lover's embrace and never come out again.

But as he thought about Gabe, now sober and clear of mind, he also realized just how he had treated the other when he was high on demon blood. He had taken without asking first, he had been rough... No. Not rough. That was too soft a word. He had been violent. If Gabe were human he was sure he would have injured him, made him bleed. He hadn't, because Gabe was not human. But did that excuse his actions?

The trickster had also never stopped him or even tried to stop him, or asked or just told him to stop. So clearly he had been fine with his treatment. But was that a good thing for Sam? Or rather a bad thing for Gabe? Why even? Why had he tolerated such behavior? And would he hate Sam now? Should the hunter even care what the god though of him now? That was still a killer and he had just let Sam slide into addiction. But no, he couldn't blame Gabe for that.

Could he even still look him in the eye, though? After everything he had done? He was the reason why the devil walked the earth now. How could that ever be forgiven? Except... Gabe was a god. He had said he could kill demons and even angels. So how might he fare against the devil?

After all, the devil was a fallen angel. So could a pagan god best him? Going by the actions of the other angels, who insisted that they needed Michael and were clearly scared of Lucifer, the devil was far beyond just another angel and a god was not God, but maybe? Maybe he could at least help them? The trickster was definitely the most powerful creature they had ever come across and he might even side with them...

Sam also remembered that Gabe had neglected to come to him when he cried for him in the panic room, but that had been for the best. So he prayed. ...Nothing. He prayed his heart out and called out and begged for Gabe to come to him. But the trickster did not come.

He tried again after Dean and him parted ways and he stopped hunting. But there was not a word from the god. Then Jess started visiting his dreams and he wanted her just for what she represented. No hunting, no monsters, no worries greater than the next exam. Innocence and a normal life.

But she said he couldn't have that. That stung. And then Jess turned out to be Lucifer in disguise and he found out that he was the devil's true vessel. That changed things. About the trickster, too. Because now Sam had to wonder: Had he known?

The god had known about the demon blood, he had known angels would save his brother and he had known why. He had known about the apocalypse. And at the mystery spot, he had fumed because they had sealed 'their fates', not the fate of the world or Dean's fate as instrument of heaven, no. He'd spoken about their fates, plural. As in their fates as true vessels of Michael and Lucifer?

Had he always known? And did it make a difference to him? Did he just not care or was it... was it appealing to him?

Whatever might the trickster think about the devil...? With Gabe not reacting to his prayers, he had no way to know for sure. But he wanted answers, no he needed answers. But how could he possibly get those? Were there books about that kind of thing? On a whim he found a computer and googled it. He didn't really expect anything to come of it, but it was possible, considering that both tricksters and the devil were known and debated mythological figures. And it couldn't hurt to check, right?

But the results shocked him to the core: According to some theologists and cultural scientists, the devil could be seen as a trickster himself!

Apparently, the archetypal trickster was an ambivalent being, not quite good and not quite evil, but always eager to overthrow the status quo. With that, the trickster was a motivator of change and development, a revolutionary. He was a cheater, manipulator and shapeshifter and liked to mess with the god(s) of his respective religion, but often helped mankind in the process, at which Sam was led further to the archetype of a culture hero. Wait, a 'hero'?

Apparently the trickster was often, though not necessarily, also a culture hero, meaning that he brought mankind some kind of essential invention or discovery. Often control over the fire. And it looked like some early texts about the devil described him just like that instead of painting him an absolute evil. He angered God, but in leading man to the wisdom over good and evil, he also liberated them from God's absolute control and although it got them thrown out of paradise, those texts said, it gave them autonomy, independence and freedom of mind.

They said the devil taught man the most essential discipline of all: Doubt, the ability to question the establishment, see wrongs and righten them. Some texts that he found leaned a bit too much pro-devil, even tried to associate Lucifer, meaning the lightbringer, with the Enlightment, since it essentially was mankind questioning the ruling religion and freeing themselves from its control in favor of education and science.

But Sam was pretty sure that the real devil was locked up in hell when that happened. Still, the lot of it was hard to dismiss. The devil at least shared many of the characteristic traits of a trickster. So what might Gabe think of him, seeing as they were so very alike?

No, he wouldn't go there. He already felt sick.

With that he ended that train of thought and didn't touch it again. He actively tried never to think of it again. And he almost managed. But just almost. He was doing well, until the day he found candy wrappers at a crime scene were the Incredible Hulk had been spotted. That brought those thoughts back to the surface and while he could still tell himself that he was just paranoid, that didn't last, either.

When he got back to Dean, his brother said what he least wanted to hear: The guy's death had pretty much been 'just deserts'.

Fuck. Gabe was back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *You learned all your tricks from me.* :)  
> The trickster is just the best archetype, isn't he? I love them so much. My favorite deity in my original work (high fantasy, but not even close to finished yet) is a trickster as well. Worshipping him is kind of forbidden in most of my fictional countries, though, since he has a had rep due to his thing for destroying empires. But hey, "all that doth begin / Should rightly to destruction run". Now who knows where that's from and who said it? Hm? Anyone? Please!
> 
> BUT: University starts again tomorrow, so I don't know how much time I will have to write.


	2. If it is a Trickster...

So Gabe had decided to show up again.

Huh. Sam didn't really know how to feel about that, now that he saw him and his actions from a new perspective. But he knew for a fact that he didn't like that Dean was involved this time. They... they just didn't mix. Whenever those two shared space, one of them was bound to die. True, all those deaths had been either temporary or fake, but they had still hurt to look at.

That and they could do a lot of damage without trying to kill each other, too. Like... Gabe could just tell Dean about anything that he had done with Sam while Dean was not there. Like the loads of sex that they'd had over the last couple years. Or how much Sam had loved to fuck a killer monster and how he'd loved to be brutal in bed while he was high.

Especially now that his bond with Dean was so very tender, so fragile. If Gabe spilled the beans about them, about Sam and what he was really like, it would destroy that bond completely and burn out the wounds to make sure it never got a chance to heal. He could annihilate their brotherhood.

But he could have done that before. Maybe not this completely seeing as their bond had been stronger then, but he could have told Dean about them at the mystery spot. And he had not. No, in fact he had kept Sam's secret and acted like nothing had ever happened until Dean was long dead and thus couldn't hear any of it. The trickster had protected Sam.

The question now was: Would he do it again? So much had changed. Both between them and for the world. Heck, the devil walked free. A devil who had a lot in common with Gabe, who had fucked his vessel. But really, did he know and did it make a difference? That they were very alike didn't have to mean that they were also on the same side, right? Please?

Couldn't that also mean that Gabe hated the devil for going too far and giving tricksters a bad reputation? Because the devil wanted to exterminate mankind and 'proper tricksters' only punished jerks? By God, he hoped Gabe didn't like the devil. He wouldn't know, but he wrecked his brains for a probable answer.

Well, Gabe had said he didn't care about the demon blood. But when it became a bigger part of Sam's life he had not been happy, despite his lack of complaints. So maybe the same was true for the devil's vessel thing? Maybe he liked Sam despite that? That would be one hell of a coincidence, though, for the trickster to accidentily pick the man who just so happened to also be the one true vessel of the one and only Satan.

Except.. There was of course also the option that Gabe had snatched him because he was the devil's vessel while not liking the devil. It seemed unlikely that a trickster of all people had wanted to try to save and reform him to prevent his downfall to the devil, but it was perfectly possible that Gabe had picked him to piss the devil off. Was it not?

The smaller man had an ego the size of the moon and he had already said that he liked to mess with angels. Plus the devil was not only an angel, but the once most beautiful and likely still most arrogant angel there ever was. Pride was his thing; his was so damn huge it had gotten him kicked out of heaven. But this war clearly showed that that had failed to downsize his ego. He still wanted heaven and considered himself above all else. ...Who could possibly fit the victimology of a trickster better?

So maybe Gabe's caring for him had been sincere, maybe not, he wouldn't know, but even if it hadn't been, the pagan might still be an enemy of the devil. Maybe it was just an ego thing and he wanted to fuck with the devil and have a good laugh at his expense so he'd gone and screwed his destined body six ways to Sunday. That was possible, too.

And that meant: Not all was lost. Despite their similarities, the trickster might still help them against the devil. Good. Now he just had to convince Dean to try to talk with the monster instead of just ganking it. Because as experience showed, ganking the trickster would most likely make him stay away for a while, to sulk or something, and they didn't have that much time anymore.

 

TV land took him by surprise, but it also showed him that Gabe really did have power in abundance. Power they could use. Getting to see Dean all flustered and fangirling over his obvious mancrush was just a bonus. He didn't really get what Dean saw in 'Doctor Sexy' - and he was the bisexual of the two - but whatever. Dean certainly wouldn't understand what he saw in Gabe, either. So he didn't judge, he just tried not to smile too openly about his brother's rare moment of puppy-cuteness.

Then the mood changed in the blink of an eye as Dean shoved his idol against the next wall: "You're not Dr Sexy."

Oh, now he was listening. And it didn't matter at all that the man's face remained mostly impassive.

"You're crazy."

"Really? Because I swore part of what makes Dr Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots, not tennis shoes."

He paid attention to the guy's shoes? Wow, maybe it was more than a mancrush. What straight guy cared about shoes? Even Sam didn't. So he couldn't quite help but comment, still Dean just snapped back an undeniable retort and refocused on the possibly fake Dr Sexy in front of him, who was still not bothered:

"Call security."

"Yeah, go ahead, pal. See we know what you are."

And with that, everything stopped and the man smirked, before shifting down into Gabe:

"You guys are getting better!"

But hey, he was cheerful again. That was already better than when Sam saw him last. Even though Dean remained grim:

"Get us the hell out of here."

Which did not impress the trickster much.

"Or what?"

He gripped Dean arm that held him by the throat and just casually moved it away, while the hunter's face contorted in unexpected pain. But Gabe was cheery and clapped him on the other shoulder for good measure.

"Don't see your wooden stakes, big guy."

Seeing as Dean was still shocked at the smaller man's strength, like he had forgotten that Gabe was still a god, he took over the talk, of course acting like they knew each other no better than Dean knew of. And Gabe played along. He grinned and bragged about his creation and when Dean was too pragmatic, asking how they could get out of it, he threw some nonsense in for shits and giggles.

Why he hell was it a $64 question? Why 64? Was is a code, a hint? Or was it a jibe at their ever poor finances? Or was it completely random, just a trickster wanting to defy conventions because it was too much to ask him to say a saying like everyone else? Okay, maybe Sam was a little testy. Gabe was too good at paying no attention to him. It was for the best, but it irked him, damn it. Okay, practical thinking:

"Whatever. We just- We need to talk to you. We need your help."

...It looked like he was taking that serious... But it also looked like he was just acting like he was taking that serious. Shit, there were too many layers of pretense on top of each other to tell where the truth lay.

"Hmm. Lemme guess: You two muttonheads broke the world and you want _me_ to sweep up your mess."

Well, that was it in a nutshell. But it also sounded childish and he could only just stop himself from rolling with eyes with a dramatic sigh, but Dean was also there so he battled down the urge and played puppy instead:

"Please. Just five minutes. Hear us out."

"Sure. Tell you what: Survive the next 24 hours, we'll talk."

Okay, that did not sound good. But Dean asked before he could and the answer sounded even less like something out of the rough surroundings of good:

"The game!"

"What game?"

"You're in it."

Great. But at least Dean was turning down the anger-at-the-trickster in favor of practical thinking as well now. Sometimes you just have to humor someone to get their cooperation.

"How do we play?"

"You're playing it."

Not helping. Different approach:

"What are the rules?"

But Gabe, that bastard, just played his brows with a smirk and was gone, leaving them alone to his 'game'. That did not bode well for them. Also Dean's patience was done with again. But at least Sam managed to evade the next slap meant for his face. And the trickster's version of Doctor Picklesomething - Dean would know her name, but he was just watching from the side - could also not be reasoned with, overacting like an emotional wreck as she talked about something that never actually happened, because this was not him. It was just a role picked by his bastard of a lover.

He was annoyed to the ends of the world when she finally let him go and agreed with Dean. But there was just something nagging at his brains as he walked. The last time the trickster had haunted him, he had tried to teach him a lesson. This time he spoke of a game, but what his creation had said... A girl had died on his table, but he was not to blame. He was afraid to do his job now and to love, but he should forgive himself and go on...

Was the girl Jess or his mother, both of whom had died because of him, which he still blamed himself for? Or was the metaphor greater. Was that which he blamed himself for more recent? Gabe couldn't be trying to send him a subliminal or at least Dean-proof message to forgive himself for freeing Lucifer, could he? No, that was too far-fetched. (It wasn't.)

But then they were interrupted by some guy Dean had no nerve for and then his brother was shot. Fuck, did Gabe have to kill Dean every time they met?!

Fortunately he didn't quite die this time. He was just injured and needed surgery. That was weird, having to work in an actual operating room. But at least the fake people obeyed when he demanded what he knew with just enough authority. Which felt odd and kind like another nod from the trickster, but he dismissed it. Because next, he was restrained with his legs spread in front of an applauding crowd.

At least he was standing up and still dressed. But it was all Japanese! The part of him that was searching for clues from the trickster noticed that the hot chicks wore devil horns, but he couldn't waste another thought on that. He was on a countdown and he had no idea what he had been asked. He didn't speak fricking Japanese!

Then the countdown was over and the host told him he was sorry. That couldn't mean anything good. No, that was not good at all. But he also didn't know what was happing! And then agony exploded in his groin and he was fighting just to breathe.

Dean didn't help, either. Was he okay? Did he look freaking okay?! What a bloody stupid question was that?!!! He was just breathing again when Castiel appeared. But, wait! Was it him? Or another trick?

"It's me. Uh, what are you doing here?"

Well, what did it look like, dumbass? Getting restrained and tortured for entertainment! But it was nice that Cas had been looking for them, so could he maybe just get them out now before anyone was smashed in the tender bits, again?!

"Let's go."

Yes! NO! Cas disappeared mid-step like Gabe had. But not by his own intention. He was prevented from saving them and banished from their side.

"No, no, no. Mr Trickster does not like pretty boy angels."

Well, that proved Gabe's claim about being able to kill angels. He was clearly stronger. Useful, if only they could use him. But that did not seem to be the case. The show went on and now Dean was in danger. The countdown had started and the question was once more in Japanese.

They had to get out. They had to get the hell out of this. But how? What was Gabe's stupid game? How did they play?! ...Play. They had to play it. Like he said. Like.. That was it!

"I played a doctor!"

"What?"

"In Dr Sexy, I played a doctor. I operated."

"So?"

"I played the role the trickster wanted me to play. Maybe we have to go along with it."

"With what?"

"The game!"

Now that sounded familiar. But the countdown was nearing its end and he was getting frantic. Yes, he knew that Dean didn't speak Japanese, but he had to act like he was playing along! And then he hit his buzzer. He didn't have to know Japanese for that. A big red button in a quiz show only ever meant one thing, no language skills necessary. And once he did that, he managed to answer.

And it worked! But beside saving Dean from the 'nutcracker' that also meant that they had figured out the trickster's game: They just had to play their roles.

That was not fun. Right his next role seemed to be designed to humiliate him. But he battled through it. Who know how an add about medicine for genital herpes could kill him for not playing along? He didn't want to try that out.

Next they ended up in a sitcom. Again with a live audience like in the game show. ...Was the recurring motif of people watching them a hint or just a symptom of Gabe being a drama queen? Who knew. Maybe Gabe just knew that it embarrassed them even more. Or that was how they would die if they didn't cooperate. Death via outraged fan mob.

However, the sitcom also sealed something he had feared at the beginning of the ad. They might have figured out how to not get killed, but they still had no clue about how to get out. Whenever they accomplished one role, they were just dumped into the next one. How many more were there? How long would this go on? Dean didn't know either.

But then Castiel came back, albeit looking a little worse for wear. Dean instantly jumped on that.

"You okay?"

"I don't have much time."

"What happened?"

"I got out."

"From where?"

"Listen to me: Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be."

"What thing? The trickster?"

"If it is a trickster."

What? What else would it be? He had to ask what Castiel meant by that, but he never got his answer. Out of nowhere Castiel was flung against the next wall and dropped to slump to the ground. And with a cheerful "Hello!" the trickster danced in through the door.

The audience loved him and applauded, prompting a charming "Thank you." even though he had created and most likely controlled them all. But now Castiel looked up again and they could see that his mouth was duct-taped closed. He stood up and sought the maybe-not-trickster's eyes. The creature paid attention to him first, too. And he still smiled. But Sam was beginning to realize that none of that cheer was real. And then Gabe greeted the angel:

"Hi, Castiel!"

But Castiel.. his eyes went wide and jumped over to them, seeming almost frantic. He wanted to tell them something. But Gabe saw it, too. And in one gesture he banished the angel again. He... he...

"You know him?"

But he was drowned out by Dean: "Where did you just send him?"

He was worried, that much was clear. But the 'trickster' didn't care. He just had his fun with them:

"Relax. He'll live. ...Maybe."

Now that was the right trigger for Dean. He advanced with a decisiveness that might have intimidated a lesser being and growled:

"All right, you know what? I'm done with the monkey dance, okay? We get it."

"Yeah? Get what, hotshot?"

"Playing our roles, right? That's your game."

"That's half the game."

Urgh, more? What more?

"What's the other half?"

"Play your roles out there."

Huh? They had no roles in the real world. They just were. But Dean beat him to it:

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know. Sam, starring as Lucifer. Dean, starring as Michael. Your celebrity deathmatch! Play your roles."

What? He couldn't even compre... That was the worst! No, that couldn't be true. He had to check:

"You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?"

"Hells, yeah. Let's light this candle!"

"We do that, the world will end."

"Yeah? And whose fault is that? Who popped Lucifer out of the box? And which righteous man shed blood in hell?"

Ouch.

"Look, it's started. _You_ started it. And it can't be stopped. So let's get it over with!"

He couldn't believe it. Gabe himself had been so furious about Dean's deal, about the fates it sealed for them. He had not wanted this! Why now? Sam wanted so badly to ask him that directly, but Dean was still there and would hear. But then Dean's mood shifted. It became biting:

"Heaven or hell. Which side you on?"

"I'm not on either side."

And Sam just knew that that was not a good kind of smile on the trickster's face. That was his smile that said 'careful, boy, I eat your kind for dinner, if they get mouthy with me'.

"Yeah, right. You're grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer. Which one is it."

Wrong, Dean, don't go there. But it was said and done, no going back now. The trickster laugh-scoffed and crept nearer while his tone grew cold as ice, the glint in his eyes the worst kind of wicked:

"You listen to me, you arrogant dick: I don't work for either of those S.O.B.s, believe me."

But Dean just wouldn't learn:

"Hm. No, you're somebody's bitch."

The slightest fraction of Sam's consciousness just noted that Gabe was speaking specifically about work, while Dean made it sexual on every turn. Perhaps Gabe could not just deny Dean and had to cover that with a different wording because he had. He had, while mostly just figuratively also on some occasions literally, grabbed ankle for someone. He had gone on his fours and taken it like a bitch. But for _Sam_. Or was that Lucifer's-body-to-be for him?

But he never finished that thought. It was swept away when the god grabbed Dean and held him up against a wall by the scruff of his neck and hissed quietly as a whisper, yet darkly as an abyss:

"Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am."

Then he stepped back and half-turned to address them both: Now listen very closely. Here's what's gonna happen: You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities and play the roles that _destiny_ has chosen for you."

"No."

Now both looked to him. They heard the change in his voice. But it was just too much. Screw Dean's view on him, this was too important.

"No, I can't accept that."

"Then you'll stay here in-"

"You listen to me now, Gabe!"

The trickster's brows jumped to the sky and Dean showed a perfect mix of worry, suspicion and general confusion.

"I won't do anything, until you tell me why. You hated this! You were furious that Dean made that deal, saying it sealed our fates. Why are you in favor of that now? How could you change your mind like that?!"

"I didn't. I'm still mad at you two and I still hate this."

"Then why tell us to say yes?"

"Because you will do it anyway! Both of you! It's already decided, Sam! There's no way out. No stopping it. Shouldn't you know best? You tried to stop Lucifer from rising, too. And look where it's gotten you. Trying to prevent it is exactly what freed him. So how can you think you could prevent this now?"

He didn't know how to answer, while Dean's shock slowly grew. But he now saw all that pain and anger Gabe had been hiding under smiles and grins before:

"Sammy, this is inevitable. And I don't want it but I can't help it now and I am sick and tired of waiting for it! I thought I could simply sit it out. But you just won't get it, so let me make this clear: You can't fight it forever, you're just drawing it out now and I can't stand this any longer! So finish what you started! Or share my experience, going through the aching motions ever headed for disaster that never stops to loom over your head. If you prefer that, just stay in TV Land: Three hundred channels and... nothing's on!"

And then he snapped his fingers and they were at a new set. But they were not ready to play.

"'Gabe'?"

"Dean, I-"

"'GABE'?! You're on a first name basis with that monster?!!"

"Just let me explain."

"Yeah, I'd love to. So tell me, 'Sammy', when the hell did that happen?!!!"

"When you were _dead_ , okay? I only tried to get you back, to save you from hell!"

"What?"

He sighed, but this version of the truth might not destroy them entirely:

"When you were dead, but not just dead, when you were in hell because you brought me back, I was... so much. I was devastated. And I couldn't bear the thought of you suffering because of me. So I tried to get you back. And then I remembered Ga- the trickster. At the mystery spot. He not only killed you countless times then, he also brought you back each time.

"So... you... what?"

"I thought he could save you, so I summoned him and asked him to give you back to me."

"You did? Sam, that was nuts! Summoning a trickster?!"

"You made a deal with a demon, Dean, you have no room to judge me for that."

"Fine. What'd he say?"

"He said he could do it, but he wasn't willing to go to hell for us."

"Well that was helpful."

"It was, actually. Because he also told me that angels were working on freeing you already and that stopped me from summoning a demon to make a bargain for your soul."

There was a moment of silence as Dean worked through that, reluctant and yet urged to feel gratitude toward the trickster for saving his Sammy from himself. But then he thought something else...

"He knew about the angels?"

"He did. And 'our fates'. He was not explicit about that and I doubt I would have believed him had he told me everything, but looking back at it now, I think he knew about the apocalypse and that we were the vessels."

"How the hell did he know that? He's some pagan little deity. That's not even his religion!"

"I don't know, he just did. He said he liked to mess with them. ...Oh, uh, Dean? These people are looking at us. He should probably start playing, considering all the guns, heavy and sharp objects around."

"Yeah, I guess."

It stayed in both there heads, though. Briefly it was overshaddowed as they spotted the trickster in a new face, made a plan of attack and stabbed him. That seemed to have worked, but then it always had whenever they had stabbed him before. So it was no big surprise when Sam was a car.

But that stabbing him as should have killed him just wouldn't work also kicked loose a though Dean had been playing with: The Trickster was more powerful than one of his kind should be, could bring people back from the dead despite no meaning of such in any description of his kind, couldn't be killed as one of his kind should be, knew things about angels and the apocalypse his kind had no reason to know about, knew Cas, who doubted his species and clearly recognized him as well, oh and he became irate at the topic of Michael and Lucifer.

That could only mean one thing.


	3. A Trickster by Mind, yet not by Kind

"Are you sure this is gonna work?"

"No, but I have no other ideas."

Well, that was encouraging. But it was probably worth a shot. Anything to not be a car anymore. (And have his brother groping around in his 'trunk'.)

"Alright, you son of a bitch! ... We'll do it!"

Nothing much happened, though. Not yet. On a whim, Sam offered to honk, but then he could already hear steps and the creature approached:

"Wow, Sam... get a load of the rims on you."

Typical. But he had no nerve for that now.

"Eat me."

Still the bastard whistled and was all cheery again, before he turned quiet and serious:

"Okay, boys. Ready to go quietly?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, not so fast. Nobody's going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs."

But Gabe had the gall to frown at that:

"What's the difference? Satan's gonna ride his ass one way or another."

Did he really not care? Sam was almost glad he didn't have a face right then, because he knew it would have blankly shown his pain at the thought. But Dean non-verbally insisted and Gabe rolled his eyes with a condescending huff. Then he snapped and Sam lurched. It really didn't feel good. But at least now he was _in_ the Impala, not _the_ Impala anymore. He put on a serious face and got out to stand by Dean.

"Happy?"

Bitch. But Dean was more controlled. He liked playing this particular role. The naive. Letting the creature feel safe as they readied to activate their trap.

"Tell me one thing. Why didn't the stake kill you?"

"I am the Trickster."

"Or maybe you're not."

Snap. The holy oil ignited and caught him in its midst. To his credit, Gabe didn't seem too impressed, more surprised and curious with a hint of doubt than shocked and panicky. But then he was a phenomenal actor. In any case, Dean was sure of himself and their idea:

"Maybe you've always been an angel."

Gabe's brows rose up and he laughed, but now he was not so convincing anymore.

"A what? Somebody slip a mickey in your power shake, kid?"

Dean was more certain than ever and a smile found a way onto his face.

"I'll tell you what: You just jump out of that holy fire and we'll call it our mistake."

He breathed another laugh, but his eyes had already lost their cheer. They didn't know it yet, but he already considered jumping. He was no ordinary angel, he would survive it. But it would still reveal him, even banish him for a time, and it would hurt like hell on top. No, he wouldn't jump. Bloody idiots.

He dropped his smile, released the illusion and let them see; they were still at the paper mill. Then the not-trickster slow-clapped in begrudging respect:

"Well played, boys."

So they were right. He was an angel.

"Well played... Where did you get the holy oil?"

He did not dignify Dean's response with a comment, but at least neither did the angel. The stories he could have told Dean about Sam's ass...

"Where did I screw up?"

Well, he knew too much for one, but it wasn't really that one thing. No one thing would have given him away and even like this it had been a long shot. Sam felt compelled to reassure him:

"You didn't. But nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did."

Dean, however, disagreed of course:

"Mostly it was the way you talked about Armageddon."

"Meaning?"

"Well, call it personal experience... Nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family."

And that put a special look in the angel's eyes that Sam had never seen before. He didn't know how to interpret it, either. Was it reverence? Or love? It didn't look too enjoyable, more weary. It was remembrance of times long past. Happy, but so long ago all joy had faded away with time. It almost hurt to look at. He needed a distraction. And answers, yes. Who was he even? The angel had lied about his species, so why would his name be true? But Sam needed something to call him:

"So which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezy or Douchey?"

"I told you that, Sam."

"'Gabe'? Doesn't sound very angelic."

"Gabriel, okay. Gabe's a nickname. They called me Gabriel."

...What?!

"Gabriel? The archangel?"

"Guilty."

Holy hell. He had fucked an archangel. The holiest of the holy. And he... holy shit. He couldn't comprehend that. Least of all paired with that deep, imploring look in his eyes. But thankfully Dean was still in a thinking condition:

"Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a trickster."

"My own private witness protection."

Huh? Dean's eyebrows asked about the same, so the angel elaborated:

"I skipped out of heaven, had a face transplant, carved out my own little corner of the world till you two screwed it all up."

Wow. Angels did that? Was that a thing? And an archangel at that? Wait, one of the archangels... Did that mean that he was one of the only four who knew god, like Castiel had said? Dean seemed to be thinking roughly along the same lines:

"What did daddy say when you joined the pagans?"

"Daddy doesn't say anything about anything."

Wow, that was defeat if he had ever heard it. Why? How could he sound so forlorn? He had to ask:

"What happened? Why'd you ditch?"

But Dean intercepted before Gabriel could answer:

"Well, can you blame him? His brothers are heavyweight douche nozzles."

Ouch. The next words out of the archangel's mouth were near inaudible, but they chilled the hunters to the bone with the ice in the angel's angel:

"Shut your cake hole. You don't know anything about my family."

After that first obvious threat, he softened. Only to rip at the heartstrings of every thing with a capacity for sympathy:

"I loved my father, my brothers. Loved them. But watching them turn on each other, tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it! Okay? So I left."

But then the bitterness came through: "And now it's happening all over again."

"Then help us stop it!"

It came out before he could help himself. Because he already knew what Gabe would say. And it came as he had expected.

"It can't be stopped. I've told you time and again. It's inevitable. All I can hope for now, my only possible relief is when it is finally over! Don't you get it? I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other thanks to you two! Heaven, hell, I don't care who wins. I just want it to be over."

How could anyone be so far gone they didn't care if it was hell or heaven on earth anymore? He couldn't- He just couldn't let the angel fall to the bottom of that downward spiral. He had to be saved. All of them. The hunter had to believe that their mistakes could be redeemed:

"I doesn't have to be like that. There has to be some way to- to pull the plug."

But that generated only laughter from the self-proclaimed trickster and an insight that was hopefully severely exaggerated:

"Oh, you do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this: Because this isn't about a war, it's about two brothers who loved each other and betrayed each other. You think you'd be able to relate!"

What? How? Neither of them really got that one:

"What are you talking about?"

Gabriel, though, was apparently confused by their confusion. Was there something they should know about? Clearly. Gabriel whistled in mocking and his tone thereafter wasn't much friendlier, nor his words:

"You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it," and he looked to Dean: "Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father," and he looked to Sam: "And Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of daddy's plan."

He looked from one to the other and let it sink in, how very familiar it sounded if put like that.

"You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you. As it is in Heaven, so it must be on Earth. One brother has to kill the other."

No. They wouldn't. But Dean responded before him by a second:

"What the hell are you saying?"

"Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always."

He couldn't...

He didn't know where Dean got his resilience, but he still stood against the archangel:

"No. That's not gonna happen."

"I'm sorry, but it is. Guys, I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow. But this is real. And it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be."

They had nothing more to say, it felt like.

"So, boys, now what? Stare at each other for the rest of eternity?"

"Well, first of all you're gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yeah. Or we're gonna dunk you in some holy oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel."

Gabriel's eyes snapped over to Sam, almost as if to ask if he would actually do that to him, but the younger hunter had no sympathy left. So he snapped his fingers. Castiel appeared and Dean turned to him at once:

"Cas, you okay?"

"I'm fine. Hello, Gabriel."

"Hey, bro. How's the search for daddy going? Let me guess... awful."

So he knew what they had been up to. He had been watching. Everything? Always? But Castiel did not react. No, Dean did:

"Okay, we're outta here. Come on, Sam."

It was difficult, but he followed his brother without looking back or answering Gabriel's protesting questions. It was Dean again who did that.

"No. We're not. Because we don't screw with people the way you do. And for the record, this isn't about some prizefight between your brothers. Or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family."

With that, they left. Dean leading them out and Castiel and Sam following without another word to the archangel after Dean flipped the fire alarm and the sprinklers began to put out their burning angel trap. Sam was a bit worried that the archangel might still be mad at them for trapping him and attack now that he could.

But nothing happened. It seemed like Dean had left an impression. Not one as big as Gabe however. Gabriel. The trickster was an archangel. And the worst was true.

_"Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you?"_

Gabe had not only known that he was the one true vessel of the devil and his interest was not just that of one trickster in another. He had only cared, everything that had happened between them had happened only because he was the devil's body to be. And Gabriel might say he didn't care who won, but he hadn't taken Michael's body to bed.

Fuck. He realized only now. He was not just the devil's vessel. He was the destined body of Gabriel's own brother. And he had... all the things that he had done with him... Had he imagined his brother when he laid Sam on a bed and knelt between his legs, and thrust inside him over and over again until he came? Had he imagined the devil, who was his brother, when Sam threw him to the ground, pushed him down and ravag- sodomized him?

Oh god, Sam felt sick. Why had he ever allowed this to happen? He might rethink this next time they were about to die and needed the help, but right this moment, Sam was glad that Gabriel had refused to team up with them. He couldn't look him in the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! First week plus homework is over and the next is almost here already... I hope I can start the final story of this series next weekend, but don't hold me to that. I have loads to read this semester and should really start early. Like with Dante's Divine Comedy or Milton's Paradise Lost. Or the various books across the Old Testament... Yep, I have three theology courses this semester!!! It's all Supernatural's fault. Or mostly anyway. But hey, I still need the credits for General Studies. And judging by the introductory sessions this last week I like them more than my Anglistics courses right now. But that's not hard. Whether it's English literary studies or cultural history, it feels like everyone is only talking about Sexism, Racism etc anymore. I know the world is shit but I'm not studying politics for crying out loud! Sorry, had to let that out. Anyway, I like my theology courses. They're refreshingly unpolitically on topic and the devil is always a win. Speaking of, next story means Luci comes! See you then. :)


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